Bouncing Back

Carmen moved along the mat, keeping a good rhythm with her steps, making sure enough one had some purpose to it. Alicia’s footwork was good - great, even. But she was fairly safe in her assumption that she could outmove the Brit, if it came down to it. When all else failed, her speed was always the solid fallback.

But that wouldn’t save her from everything. Carmen had thought she might be able to get away after the fake out, put enough distance between them to avoid solid retribution, maybe even create an opening if Alicia flinched or fell for the fakeout - wrong on all counts. Alicia wasn’t holding position, she was surging, and all of the sudden she was in a range that Carmen didn’t favor.

Thanks to her time with Felina, she knew well what a clinch like this meant, what was coming her way. Simply knowing could only help her so much, though. She could lower her guard, brace herself for the impact. She did both of those things, but she was still taking a knee from one of the biggest legs she’d ever seen. It was just not going to be a good time.

Sure enough Alicia’s knee slammed into her guard. One of her arms wound up taking it head on, managed to absorb some impact, but only so much - just like before, a fraction of Alicia’s was still staggering, enough power to lift Carmen up on her toes and make her bend forward, her face burying in Alicia’s shoulder. She gasped, croaked, and had to bite down to keep more noise from getting out.

Alicia wanted to infight. Okay.

Carmen’s response was immediate and direct, striking out with the arm that hadn’t taken the blow. She lashed out with two swift strikes in rapid succession - the first, a stiff hook to Alicia’s side, then a higher overhand, a looping blow over Alicia’s clinch, aiming for her face.

Alicia’s grin, already sinister, widened considerably as her knee ploughed home. Unlike some, the redhead didn’t use her clinch to pull Carmen down into the hit, only to restrain her. But her leg power was sufficient to blast through her guard with sufficient force left to buckle Carmen completely – taking her up on her toes, the brunette almost slumping to the point that for an instant Alicia was almost carrying her opponent’s weight.

She was pretty pleased with that hit, though she’d known it wasn’t game over by any means.

Oh no, and she would have been deeply disappointed if it had been over.

With both arms up around Carmen’s neck, the best Alicia could do was twist a bit, taking the hit to her side away from her liver or kidneys. It still hurt, but it was a good sight better hurting than taking a liver shot and having her body shut down on her. She could take a shot like that.

And it definitely didn’t make her release her clinch. Instead, she was already chambering her leg back for another brutal knee – if Carmen wanted to trade body shots like this, Alicia was more than happy to trade knees for punches all day.

The punch to her face was more of a problem. She was willing to bet it wasn’t Carmen’s best shot, not with the angle and the way the two women were almost leaning against each other. But it still snapped her head to one side and reinforced her conviction that she really didn’t want to take a straight shot to the head when the boxer could really get behind it.

Instincts kicking in, Alicia did two things. Her clinch fell away, her hands drawing back so she could use them for her own protection.

The other thing she did was unload the knee she’d been readying, hoping to at least get a second hit in before Carmen pulled free.

Carmen swung, Carmen hit. While Alicia had made the first move of the match, she’d scored the first unblocked hit, an experience she never got tired of. Just the feel of her fist crashing into a body work up her system like a light switch.

She just wished it had been a better shot. Carmen had a quick curse when her first strike fell short of the ideal target, missing a blow that might've knocked the wind out of the Brit’s sails, maybe even dropped her. It was still a good hit, a palpable hit, but she could've gotten a bit more of not for some expert maneuvering on her foe’s part.

Damn shame. The second one had more success, though. It was far from her best punch, and she intended to hit Alicia’s crazy-grinning face with more devastating things, but it was a solid enough strike to do the job. Carmen wanted her opponent to break the clinch and back away, and that was what happened.

Alicia didn’t just let her go, though. It couldn’t be that easy, but she felt she was ready for it. She knew another knee was coming, her other arm was still in position to block it, but she knew it would still do some damage. And it did.

The knee was enough to pick Carmen up, as it slammed into her guard and got deeper into her gut that she would’ve liked. She had a solid core, one that was used to taking punishment, but even so, the blow forced her back a couple of steps. Made her skip some breathes.

It kept her off for a moment. Only a moment. Then she came right back in.

No playing about this time, no guessing games. Carmen closed the distance with a quick-step in, making her way to mid-range in a heartbeat. She threw out a left jab from there, a fast strike to get Alicia’s guard up, before she threw out a right hook, an attempt to get around whatever guard she had going on and smash her in the head again.

Things sort of worked out. The redhead was willing to bet that her knees were more than enough to repay Carmen for the couple of hits she’d taken in exchange.

Two good hits for two… decent hits. She was ahead so far but, well, clearly neither woman would ever be satisfied with that.

Of course they wouldn’t.

And the moment Alicia had bought herself was used to reset her stance, rather than to push in. That might have worked out better – who knew?

But she hadn’t and Carmen stole a march on her instead.

Alicia wasn’t a boxer, per se. Kickboxer, yes, but she’d always been more about the kicks than the punches. As the saying went though, a little knowledge could be a dangerous thing. The redhead was a skilled enough boxer to see the first punch coming, the left jab. Her guard snapped into place and the left jab went nowhere; well, nowhere useful anyway.

It was any guess what might have followed for that was where the saying about a little knowledge being more dangerous than none kicked in. Alicia had spotted the first punch but not the second, which promptly turned her head ninety degrees and sent the redhead staggering back in her turn.

Staggering and then recovering herself, the British amazon scrubbed the back of a hand across her lips – checking for blood. Finding none, her eyes flicked back to Carmen, her grin if anything wider than before.

Then she stormed back in, her arrival heralded by two sharp jabs of her own that were followed by a sharp kick at the boxer’s hip.

The second Carmen’s punch connected, she had a little flashback. Ramona Deacon, 2011, San Juan.

It was either the fifth or the sixth round of their bout, she couldn’t recall off hand. Whatever the case, she wasn’t doing too good. She was the more technically sound boxer in the ring, but Ramona wasn’t called the ‘Demon of San Juan’ for her timid nature. The woman was just relentless, kept coming and coming, and Carmen was having a hard time putting her down…

...until she hit her with a right hook. One that felt almost identical to the one she just tagged Alicia with.

Granted, the Briton was less worn out than Ramona had been at that point, but even so, Carmen had thought her blow would get more stagger out of her. It clearly rocked the redhead’s world, but not enough to make her back off. If anything, judging by the smile, she wanted more.

She would get it, too.

Alicia came back in and repaid Carmen’s jab with interest, throwing out two of her own. Carmen’s instincts worked on their own, moving back just enough to avoid their range, putting in the bare minimum effort to stay away from them. The kick that followed, however, was a different thing all together. That she was in perfect position for.

Carmen had never been hit with a baseball bat, but if she had to hazard a guess on what it felt like, she’d wager it was something akin to the kick Alicia gave her. Striking too low for her arms to effectively guard in time, she blow hit right on the bone and made her fill the room with a roaring grunt of anguish. Nothing broken, she was fairly sure, but not a spot she wanted to take more hits to.

She needed to move back, but not without giving Alicia something to remember her by. She lashed out with a jab, whip-quick, just like the last one. Instead of a hook, though, she threw out a right uppercut, targeting Alicia’s head from below instead of the sides, before she tried to move back and get away from the twin tree trunks that her opponent was working with.

Alicia’s expectations of her jabs had been pretty low. If she was confident that her skills as a kicker and a grappler outstripped Carmen’s, she was also confident that her pure punching skills weren’t going to serve her well here. She had a better chance, perhaps, than a lot of the locker room but she wasn’t going to outpunch a boxer. And trying would be on the suicidal side.

So, that was fine. She wasn’t going to but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get some mileage out of her fists, like by using them to set Carmen up for a kick. Carmen’s old boxing instincts were on full display; her arms came up and she backed off, which was both the right decision and the wrong one entirely.

If it’d been a boxing fight, she’d have been homefree. As it wasn’t… Well, Alicia’s legs were to be avoided at all costs as her shout of pain made clear. By bringing her arms up, she’d left her torso vulnerable and she hadn’t backed up anywhere near far enough to be safe.

Alas for Carmen, she was also still in the danger zone and the kickboxer didn’t intend to just let her walk out.

And it was at that point when Carmen’s uppercut nearly took her head off. Alicia managed to tuck her head in and lean back, taking a lot of the sting out of the hit, but it was still enough to stagger the British colossus back a step – opening up a decent gap between the two women.

”Meirda.”

Carmen cursed under her breath as her punch fizzled out, but in this quiet, spacious room, she might as well have screamed it. Fewer things grated quite like a blow with no bite, worse still when she realized she was the one who came out worse from the exchange. Not only had Alicia landed the more palpable hit, but they were at a distance now, which certainly favored the Brit. Carmen had to get back inside without getting her head kicked off in the process. Easier said than done, though maybe…

Carmen wasn't going to outkick Alicia anymore than Alicia was going to outpunch her, but by the same token, she wasn't limited to punches anymore than Alicia was limited to kicks. She could kick. She didn't do it often, but she'd been training with her kickboxing cousin, Felina, and the learning hadn't been only in one direction. She'd been wanting to bring it out as a surprise, a way to catch the big redhead off guard after she'd come to expect punches, and she could sense that this was a good time for it.

Carmen moved in, as she’d done before, guard tight and ready, even started to draw back as if she were getting ready to throw a cross. Instead, though, she reared back, raised her leg, and shot it straight out towards Alicia’s right thigh, extending it as far and fast as possible. A teep, as Felina called it after she nailed her with the move and left her staggering. Hopefully, Carmen could get similar results.

Alicia didn’t watch Carmen’s fists. She watched the other woman’s eyes, looking for the tell-tale changes that might give her a hint where the next attack might be coming from. As the brunette came in, that was where her attention remained. Not that she just let the boxer close in without risk; as Carmen approached, Alicia’s leg snapped up and unfurled in a sharp kick aimed at the hip.

Whether that hit or missed, it didn’t stop Carmen closing the gap – which was fine by Alicia. It might have been more strategically sound to stay at range, use her reach edge, but it was considerably more boring as well. And, to the redhead, that was far more important than playing it smart.

Eyes still on Carmen’s, Alicia tensed as the boxer started to pull back, clearly readying a punch. Only to take a teep – a push kick by any other name – to her thigh, shoving the British kickboxer back a stumbling couple of steps with a stinging sensation in the muscle Carmen’s foot had just impacted.

She acknowledged the hit with a slight quirk of her lips, twisting her grin further, then resettled into her stance. With no further ado, Alicia bulled forward, only to stop on a dime (as the Americans might say) and spin, one foot shooting up in an attempt to take Carmen on the chin.

Kicking a kickboxer was a small victory for Carmen, but one she’d eagerly take. The teep was hardly a game-changing blow, but it did its simple job well enough. Alicia was staggered, like Carmen wanted. She was surprised, like Carmen wanted. That sort of thing would have diminishing returns the more they fought, but for now, the result were more than satisfactory.

Somewhat. It certainly hurt Alicia, that much was obvious, and damaging her legs was the right way to go. It was hard to be sure of that, though, when the redhead kept that smile on her face.

Carmen moved back, knowing Alicia would press her attack, but knowing something was coming and avoiding it were far different things. Those lethal legs came lashing her way, a wide powerful arc that moved faster than anything so big had a right to. She  tried to get her arm up in time for a proper block, and almost did, before the cannonblast slammed into her skull, right on the chin. This time there was no redirecting the force, no avoiding it, no anything - she took it and took it hard, knocking her a few steps away and to the ropes.

It took her a second to right herself, but Carmen did just that. She steeled herself, starting to move forward, began swaying left and right and left and -

”BZZZZZZZZZZT!”’

And there went the phone.

Carmen  froze in her tracks for a second, then eased up, breathing hard and heavy. Not too much sweat just yet, but they’d get there.

”Good.” Carmen nodded and took a deep breath, filling her lungs back up with air. ”Good. Ready to wrestle?”

The thing about Alicia Wells was that it was obvious she was strong. She was a solidly built woman, particularly in those legs, and it was taut enough to clearly be muscle and not flab. What tended to catch people off guard was how fast she could move for someone her size. Not as fast as say Valley Doll or Silver Ace, but she was by no means slow.

And, as had happened before, that was what caught Carmen on the hop. The boxer backed up but neither far enough nor fast enough to dodge the kick headed her way. It smacked home, sent the other woman reeling.

Not for long though and Carmen was coming back at her; Alicia readied herself-

And then the timer rang, and the redhead let her guard slacken. That was the first striking round done then, with neither of them scoring a critical blow. Maybe she’d come out a bit ahead but she didn’t feel anything decisive had happened yet.

Carmen’s question brought her head back up and the boxer would be able to see that Alicia’s manic grin hadn’t slackened a millimetre.

”Always.”

She began to circle, her hands this time open in a grappling stance – her gear was designed for grappling as much as striking, meaning she didn’t need to shed anything. This, the redhead thought, was her opportunity to score a point.

And so she didn’t leave it long before she shot in, fast and low, looking for a nice and simple double leg takedown to start things off. Three minutes ought to be more than enough but she couldn’t forget Carmen was a former champion. Underestimating her would be dangerous, even if Alicia remained confident that her grappling prowess trumped the boxer’s.